When the Suit Comes Off
by BouncyMouse
Summary: Temporarily on hold. Reno has it all, the suit, the status and the job. But only he knows what goes on behind his smirking eyes and flirtatious smiles. He thinks he knows how to deal with his actions, but where can you turn when it all gets too much?
1. Prologue

Prologue

She clutched the stack of folders to her chest as though they were worth their weight in gold. This time she was determined, _this_ time they were going straight to President Shinra himself. No one else would get their hands on them—they were going straight into the in-tray and that was the end of it.

She blew at a strand of hair that obscured her vision. It was late in the day and her prim 'early morning up-do' had decided to unravel, piece by piece.

There was one more corridor to go! One more dull, grey corridor!

She'd never been in the President's office before, although she'd heard the rumours. Rumours of handsome grey eyes and charming smiles, his firm handshake and smooth voice…

She smiled happily to herself. Wait until Dela in accounting got wind of this!

For the personal assistant to the assistant to the assistant to the assistant of the President, floor sixty was a pretty big deal. Down in human resources they couldn't fit all that on a key-card, so hers simply read SECRETARY to LEVEL 24. It was a long chain of command in the PA world, but ShinRa didn't like to skimp on the details, and the highly sought after level sixty key-card in her pocket was proof of that.

Only a select few had access to this grandiose level. It was only by chance that she'd been the only secretary not on lunch, maternity leave, sick leave or a cigarette break at the precise moment the files had been handed over.

That seemed to be the case a lot, actually. She supposed it was because she didn't get out much, and didn't have much luck with men, and didn't smoke, and couldn't afford to take sick days. In fact, if there was a job that needed doing it always seemed to land on her shoulders. She was fairly certain that should she, the smallest employee in the building, ever dare to take a sick day the whole company would fail instantly. She shuddered to think of the economic implications.

She hitched the folders a little higher. The corridors up here sure were long…

But there it stood, the elevator! The shiny, well-oiled, foreboding presidential elevator!

Hands shaking she retrieved the key-card from her pocket, pressed the silver button and swiped it. Seconds ticked over…the panel flashed green…

The doors purred open gracefully and…

_CRASH!_

Reno stared down at the flushed, highly flustered secretary whom he'd walked straight into, an expression of bemused apology on his face. She perched her glasses skew-whiff on her head and mumbled apologetically, trying to collect her files together from her position on the floor.

He scratched his head. "What're you doing down there, babe?" He leaned over, squishing the files into some semblance of a pile and thrusting them into her arms. She looked…appalled. "Funny place to take a break."

Slightly nonplussed by her expression he held a hand out, expecting her to take it. Instead she scrambled to her feet without his help, cheeks now so red he could have sworn they were throbbing, and turned so quickly on her heel he expected to see a dent in the floor.

He watched her practically run away from the elevator and shook his head. It was official, ShinRa secretaries were _weird._


	2. Little Black Book

When the Suit Comes Off

Chapter One

Shinra employees are mental, Reno thought, as he walked along the corridor whistling tunelessly. His EMR swung lazily from his right hand, attached to his wrist by a heavy leather and mythril cuff.

He was tall, but not in the way that most of the Shinra 'heavies' were tall. It was more an awkward, lanky kind of tall that meant any object within a five-metre radius of him was certain to meet an untimely demise. That didn't matter though. It wasn't his physical build that had got him his job anyway.

His tie was missing, and the top and bottom buttons of his un-tucked shirt hung open; but it didn't stop him from heading to his superior's office. It was something Tseng had long ago accepted, the fact that Reno would be as sarcastic, insubordinate and under-dressed as he wanted. In exchange he worked hard and followed orders to the letter without asking questions.

Questions were a luxury nobody was permitted in the Shinra family. Reno had long ago heard a rumour that the only person with the balls to question how Rufus Shinra ran things was Tseng; and he didn't doubt it for a minute. Tseng was an enigmatic man, but Reno knew first hand if you got on the wrong side of him it wasn't good for your paycheck.

He sauntered up to his boss's door, ignoring the fact it was closed. He didn't even bother knocking; he just yanked the handle and thrust it open.

Tseng didn't look up. He just sat behind his desk with his fingers laced together, studying a file that lay open in front of him. His long black hair, slightly shorter than Reno's own scarlet ponytail, was tied up neatly at the nape of his neck.

Reno grinned, and opened his mouth to speak. Tseng held up a neatly manicured hand to silence him, and gestured that he take a seat.

He did, sprawling into it with his hands behind his head. His feet, stretched out as they were, connected loudly with the leg of Tseng's desk, and the man finally drew his dark eyes away from his work and fixed Reno with a questioning glare.

"To what do I owe this pleasure," he asked dryly.

"You'll never guess what just happened…" Reno began, grinning broadly.

"You had a meeting with Rufus Shinra and he offered you a promotion?" Tseng replied.

Reno's grin slid off his face, to be replaced by a crestfallen expression, "Damn, you knew."

"Of course I knew," his lips twitched slightly, "I suggested it to him."

"Oh…right."

"It was well deserved, congratulations," Tseng smiled, and gestured at the paperwork in front of him, "Now if you'd close the door on your way out…"

"Well it means a pay rise," Reno interrupted, "I'll buy the first drink," he winked conspiratorially and tapped his nose, "But I did take Laney of your hands, so I think we're even."

"Normally I'd love to help you squander your new fortune, but I'm afraid can't."

"You can't?" Reno repeated, frowning, "Why not?"

"I'm taking Elena out," Tseng's eyes were back on the file in front of him, and his cheeks barely coloured as Reno coughed accusingly, "It's our anniversary, apparently."

"Anniversary? That's a bit serious."

"Hmmm," Tseng agreed, not looking up, "She's very excited about it though."

"I'll bet," he stood up and stretched lazily, realising his chances of company were rapidly waning, "I'll go and talk to Rude then."

"He's in his office."

"Of course he is," Reno replied, sighing dramatically, "And have fun 'taking Elena out'," he made quotes with his fingers in the air and winked at Tseng, before sliding out of the door. He left it open behind him.

That was two out of four unavailable. It was a slightly depressing prospect.

He headed up the corridor, ignoring the familiar grey walls and locked doors. There were only four of them in the department now, and despite the move to the new building they still had more offices than they knew what to do with. He smiled wryly; Tseng and Elena would probably beg to differ.

He wondered whether anyone had ever walked in on them, and made up his mind to ask Laney next time he saw her. It was too good an opportunity to miss.

He approached Rude's office to find the door open, and his partner sitting at his desk staring stoically out of the window. Compared to his own office, Rude's was fairly spacious, with room for two chairs and a filing cabinet without having to climb over furniture to get to them. It was a depressing but concrete fact that Reno, despite being higher up in the food chain than both Rude and Elena, had ended up with the smallest office. Tseng was quick to point out that Rude was larger than Reno, and therefore needed more space. Elena chimed in with her 'wouldn't want to ruin the nice offices with cigarette smoke' speech, and that pretty much sealed the deal.

He'd been after her blood that day. Not only did he end up spending most of it cooped up in his tiny office sneaking secretive cigarettes out of the window, but he also had to sit through the 'smoking isn't permitted in the office Reno, and I thought you knew that' talk off Tseng.

Rude turned away from the window and nodded in welcome as he recognised the figure in the doorway. Reno grinned at him before taking the empty chair opposite and clunking his scuffed shoes on the table. Reno didn't notice him edge his half-empty coffee mug away from the redhead's feet.

Rude firmly believed that if anything was going to break, spill or spontaneously erupt in flames it would happen near Reno, and wasn't going to leave anything to chance. Confident that he'd left a good metre or so fall-out zone around the lanky man in front of him he drummed his fingers on the desk and waited.

"Guess what!" Reno grinned.

"What," Rude decided to humour him.

"I just got promoted!"

"Congratulations," he slid his sunglasses off his face and polished them lovingly on his tie. The difference between Rude's crisp appearance and Reno's 'dragged through a hedge backwards' look was astounding. "What to?"

Reno whistled idly through his teeth as he considered the question. "No idea."

"Didn't you ask?"

"No…" he frowned.

"What was your old job anyway?"

"You know," he smirked, "I have no idea."

Rude shook his head in reply and replaced his sunglasses, checking his reflection in the window behind him.

"It's just you an' me buddy tonight," he grinned and ruffled his hair, "We can get hammered and pick up a couple of birds…"

"Sorry Reno," Rude shrugged, "I'm working."

"Working?" Reno demanded, "Since when do you work after hours!"

"Saving for a new car," Rude stated simply.

Reno stared at him with a hurt expression, "And you value a car more than our friendship…"

Rude nodded and his face split into a grin.

"Fine!" Reno through his hands in the air dramatically, and then fished around in his jacket pocket, "You leave me no choice."

He pulled a thin black notebook out of his pocket, ignoring Rude's horrified expression, and laid it on the table as though it was made of gold. He then produced a cigarette from the same pocket, and slid it deftly between his lips.

"You can't do that in here," Rude warned, and yanked the cigarette out of his mouth. With one hand he snapped in neatly in two, and ignored Reno's angry face as he tossed it in the bin, "And what is that?"

"You, my friend, are lucky I'm in such a good mood today," Reno warned darkly, before he flicked the notebook over and began scrutinising the pages, "And this is my saviour! My bible!"

"But what is it?" Rude pressed, a sceptical look on his face.

"My little black book!"

Rude shook his head, "I can see that," he gritted his teeth and winced at the smirk that met him over the desk, "When I say 'what is it' I mean, what could possess you to own it."

Reno grinned and ran a calloused finger down the page, "I advertise for strong and silent and I wind up with you."

"They're punishing me," he replied glumly.

"Haha!" Reno's voice dripped with sarcasm as he pulled the phone off the cradle and balanced it between his shoulder and his ear, "You should talk like that to the ladies. We'd get you laid in no time."

Rude glared at him.

Reno's eyes lit up as the phone connected, and he smirked at Rude, "Christa! How are you? I was just wondering…" a second later anger flickered across his face and he slammed the phone down. Rude looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged in reply, "Wrong number."

He punched another number in.

"Sure," Rude replied.

"Erin! Baby," he winked at Rude, "How's about you and me, and a bottle of something special. Tonight, around eight?" he paused, waiting for her response, and took the time to mouth a quick, 'I'm in!' across the desk, "Well…no…I wouldn't be paying. Old times sake?"

The phone returned to the cradle noisily and Rude laughed, "Real smooth Reno."

He glared, and thumbed through the pages of the notebook again, "Shut it you, I wouldn't be doing this if you hadn't ditched me."

"Company policy," Rude replied.

"Yeah, yeah, no drinking in office hours… You and Laney should get together, you could write a rule book."

"There is a rule book."

Reno glanced up, "Was that a joke Rude? You've been around me way too long."

"I know," he scratched his head absently, and flinched as Reno's aqua eyes lit up.

He dialled another number, grinning like an idiot, "Dela! Long time no see." Even Rude could make out the muffled reply from the receiver as Reno slammed the phone down. He looked sheepish, "Wrong Dela."

"Dela from accounting?"

Reno laughed nervously, and flicked to the back of the notebook, "Word travels fast."

"Just give up Reno."

He glared in response, and squinted at his own scrawled handwriting, "I'll get a date, you watch me," his eyes darted down the page, "Aha! This one's a winner."

Rude rubbed his eyes wearily, and fiddled with his watch.

Reno grinned, and waited for a reply, "Hey! Listen, I'm in the neighbourhood and I was wondering whether you'd like to…" he dragged his feet off the desk, leaving a set of smudged footprints, "That's great! You're doing me a real favour…Yeah I'll make it up to you," he winked at Rude, "So I'll pick you up at eight? Yeah, see you later…"

He jammed the phone back on the cradle and grinned in triumph. His fingers ruffled absently through his hair again, "You've just witnessed a master at work."

Rude shook his head, looking mildly impressed, "So who's the lucky lady?"

Reno smirked and tapped his nose knowingly, "That would be telling."


	3. Ruins and Alleyways

When the Suit Comes Off

Chapter Two

Reno was still smirking as he wandered out of Rude's office twenty minutes later, finding that the fun of keeping his date to himself had eventually worn off. Rude wasn't like Elena. Eventually he'd give up and get back to boring old work. Laney was like a dog with a bone. The slightest hint that you were holding out on her and she'd follow you around all day. It just didn't get old.

The smirk faded from his lips as he walked down the corridor, replaced by a testy frown. There was a very good reason he hadn't shared the details of his date. He did, however, have to pat himself on the back for his acting skills. Rude had fallen for it hook line and sinker.

He'd finally achieved something he hadn't thought possible. His reputation, so carefully honed, had turned around and stabbed him in the back.

Irritated by the prospect of celebratory drinks alone, he glanced down at his watch. It was a stunning piece, mythril with an intricate glass inlay that contained fragments of bolt materia. He watched the tiny sparks criss-crossing over the dial. The watch was a birthday present that they'd all contributed towards, and he loved it.

He sighed. Ten to five.

He was free to go at five, judging by the fact he'd seen Tseng an hour ago and hadn't been asked to work late. He figured he might as well leave early and avoid the rush. He grinned, it might even be part of his new job description; that he was allowed to come and go as he pleased.

He headed for the elevator and jabbed the buttons before swiping his key card. There was a slight delay, and the panel flashed green. He suspected it had something to do with the state his card was in. The corners were bent where he'd used it to unlock his front door, having misplaced his keys somewhere, and the chip that contained the floor data was grimy.

He licked his finger and rubbed the silver square clean as the doors closed, and felt the familiar jolt in his stomach as the lift began to descend.

There was a warning sound, and it stopped. He glanced at the panel. Floor twenty-five. If the lift had stopped it meant somebody with a higher or equal security status had swiped their card.

The Shinra key-cards worked on the basis that those with higher clearance were on higher floors, and therefore were more likely to need the elevator. Reno thought it was a fair point, especially seeing as nobody outranked the Department for Administrative Research, except for Rufus Shinra himself. Thus the secretaries spent their days running up and down stairs while the Turks slummed it in the lift.

The warning noise was annoying. By a quick process of deduction he worked out that either Rufus or Elena was waiting on the other side of the doors, unless some lucky employee had been lent a top-level key-card. It was unlikely, but not unheard of, judging by the harassed secretary he'd floored earlier.

He wasn't disappointed. The doors opened, and a slender blonde smiled at him before joining him inside.

"Well done!" she said brightly, "On the promotion, I mean. Tseng told me all about it."

Faced with her genuinely admiring smile, Reno had no choice but to smirk back, "Thanks."

She thumbed in her destination, to Reno's relief the parking lot, and turned back to him, "Maybe me and Rude will get one next, you never know."

"Yeah, maybe," he scratched his head absently.

"What are you promoted to anyway?" she continued, tucking a short strand of hair behind her ear, "Tseng's still in charge, and you already outrank me and Rude. I didn't think you could get promoted any higher."

He shrugged, and jammed his hands in his pockets, "I dunno."

"It's probably just a glorified pay rise," she winked, "Which is good, means you don't have extra responsibilities. I could do with a pay rise," she added, staring at her shoes thoughtfully.

"Here's hoping," he replied shortly. He hadn't considered the fact he'd have to work harder for his extra money.

"So…'you celebrating tonight? Rude's up in his office…"

"He's working," he shrugged.

"Oh," Elena looked guilty.

"It's alright," he lied, "I'm meeting an old friend."

"Anyone I know?" she asked, grinning.

He shook his head and stared at the floor. For once Elena didn't press him for answers. Instead she began to tap her foot excitedly. The sound was loud inside the tiny metal box, and Reno stared at her with a pained expression.

"I'd come with you," she smiled brightly again, "But Tseng's got this whole romantic evening planned," she punched his arm playfully, "Which is a shame 'cause you owe me about four drinks."

"What?" his head jerked up and he mock-glared, "Like hell I do!"

"You do," she persisted, her brown eyes twinkling, "I got two rounds in last time, when you was too drunk to walk to the bar," she wagged a finger at him when he tried to speak, "And I drove you home afterwards."

"And that's worth two drinks?"

"You threw up in my car!" she replied sternly, and then laughed at his horrified expression.

"I did not!" he protested.

"Yeah, you did. You just don't remember."

"I can handle my alcohol."

"Sure," Elena replied, smirking, "To a certain point."

Reno glared at her, and crossed his arms gruffly, "You need a new car anyway."

"I like my car," the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors whirred open. Elena stepped out, and Reno followed her, "You're lucky Rude was drinking. Imagine his face if you threw up in his car."

Reno laughed hollowly, deciding next time he saw Rude he'd find out whether Elena was lying or not. He certainly didn't remember getting that drunk. She had a point about Rude's car though. If anybody so much as looked at it funny they were in serious trouble.

Elena stopped near a small, sporty car and began to search for her keys in her pockets. The car was typically Laney- powder blue, convertible and zippy, not that she'd ever dream of speeding. It was a very feminine car. There was an air-freshener on the dashboard even though she'd never smoked in her life, and the backseat was littered with general junk. Shoes, make-up, a change of clothes…

"So I'll see you tomorrow," she continued, as Reno stared at her car, "Have fun with your old friend."

"Yeah," he replied absently, "Have fun with Tseng."

As he walked away he heard her door shut, and the purr of her engine as she backed out of the space. He was feet away from his own car when she sedately drove past him, slapping the horn with her palm and sticking her tongue out at him. He glared back, and smiled as he caught her waving out the window.

Elena was annoying, girly and far too work driven for his tastes, but he had to admit, in the years they'd worked together he'd gotten pretty fond of her. She was like the little sister he'd never had. He supposed that's why Tseng always called them 'a family' in his motivational speeches. It was a bit sad that they only came before they were ordered to terminate people, but it was nice, for that little while at least.

And he was pretty certain that had he and Elena actually grown up with each other there would have been hell to pay. Amusing as it was, the woman was far too easy to annoy.

He yanked his keys out of his pocket, and forced them into the lock. The button that automatically unlocked the car had mysteriously stopped working after the hundredth time he'd dropped the keys on concrete, and he'd be damned if he was going to fork out three hundred gil to fix it. Unfortunately there was something wrong with the lock too, because it took a good minute of forcing the key before it finally slid in with an ear splitting, grinding sound.

Great, he though wryly, as he twisted the keys and the door finally unlocked.

Reno wasn't that bothered about his car. He liked it, but not in the way that Rude fawned over his own, or the way Elena seemed to operate her whole life out of hers. It was a means of getting from A to B as soon as possible. It was a standard Shinra issue, sleek and black with tinted windows. He preferred to spend his own money on other things.

He slid onto the dark leather seat and started the engine, staring sadly at the empty cigarette cartons on the passenger side. He was sure there was more in the back, but he didn't have the time to bin them. What depressed him was the fact the packet in his pocket was almost empty.

He reversed, and gunned the car out of the car park. It was a far cry from Elena's careful exit.

Soon the back alleys of Edge were flying past his windows. Reno preferred driving around the winding side streets rather than the main roads. Traffic jams annoyed him, as did other drivers. He could drive exactly how he wanted around the quiet alleys and nobody could stop him. He liked being able to see the old remnants of Midgar too. It wasn't that he didn't visit them enough, on one job or another, but speeding past them was something else.

It was almost like he remembered, back in the good old days. Squinting out of the window at the blurred ruins he could picture the old, vibrant, rich-and-poor Midgar. He was surprised to find he actually missed it.

The clock on the dashboard read twenty past five. He wondered what to do.

He didn't really feel like going home. Even in his most anti-social mood he liked to have people around him, and apartment wasn't designed for living in. Most of the time he spent there he was asleep anyway, so it seemed pointless to try and dress the place up. There was a distinct lack of personal possessions. Rude liked it, probably due to the endless supply of cold beer in the otherwise empty fridge. Elena said it was depressing. Reno was inclined to agree with her.

Today he wanted to celebrate, and for that he needed someone else.

The empty feeling in his stomach told him that he was hungry, and the wad of gil in his pocket was itching to be spent. There was a fairly obvious solution.

He stopped the car and stared out of the window, taking in his surroundings. He could see the steeple of sector six's ruined church rising up from behind Midgar's derelict buildings. Through the other window he could see the thriving city of Edge.

He considered his options, and made up his mind. There was a bar within metres of his current position, although he wasn't certain he'd be welcome there.

He reversed the car and turned down a side street. The building came into view.

There was a worn out sign above the door. It read 'Seventh Heaven'.


	4. Seventh Heaven

When the Suit Comes Off

Chapter Three

Tifa Lockhart sat on a stool at her own bar, elbows leaning on the wooden surface with her head resting resignedly in her hands. It was just as she'd feared. The clock behind the bar told her it was five-thirty, a time when she should have been rushed off her feet serving drinks and preparing meals. Instead the bar was completely empty, save an elderly gentleman sitting at a table in the corner.

She sighed and drummed her fingers on her chin, noticing a bubble in the glossy varnish on the counter. She picked at it and it chipped. Sighing, she added 're-varnishing the counter' to a mental list of things she needed to do.

She'd known this was going to happen. Ever since flyers pronouncing the grand opening of the Chocobo Nest had started to circulate she'd had that sinking feeling in her stomach. The coupons that came attached to the leaflets were the last straw. It was no wonder her customers were down the road enjoying free drinks with their meals, and happy hours, and all manner of devious schemes designed to rid her of her regulars. She just hadn't expected such a bad turnout. Even her most faithful customers had failed to show.

It was a Monday night, so it was already going to be quiet, but she'd sent her usual staff home when the post-work rush had failed to arrive. They only worked until seven anyway on Mondays, helping her to prepare meals for the hungry Edge employees. The bar was small enough for her to manage alone on a weekday once the food orders were complete.

In the back of her mind there was a growing sense of betrayal. She tried to ignore it. She'd seen her customers through the good times and the bad times; always there with a cheering smile and free drink when it was needed, and this was how they repaid her.

There was a clattering sound from the corner of the room. The old man had finished eating, and had dropped his cutlery onto his plate. He smiled at Tifa in satisfaction, and placed a handful of gil on the table.

"Anything else you need, Bill?" she asked hopefully.

"No thank-you Tifa," his voice was deep and affectionate. He stood up carefully, "Want some help clearing up?"

"No," she shook her head, "But it's sweet of you to offer."

Bill smiled his usual, age-marred smile, and waved as he slowly left the bar.

Cursing the Chocobo Nest quietly under her breath she stood up, opened the door and flicked the sign angrily to read 'closed.' She then began to clean Bill's table, his plate and glass balanced easily in one hand, and the small amount of gil he'd left clutched in the other. She dropped the plates in the sink in the back room, deciding she'd wash up in the morning, and then placed her meagre takings in the till.

By this point the till should have been half-full. Instead Bill's notes and coins sat sadly in the empty trays. Tifa sighed, and slammed the drawer closed.

A bath. That would be nice. A long hot bath, and then maybe she could go over the road and sneak a look at the competition. Regaining her customers was going to require dirty tactics. She'd see what their prices were, and then halve her own. That would teach them…

She was about to make her move when she heard the door clatter as the handle was jerked roughly, and felt the gust of cool air that accompanied the intruder's footsteps. "Sorry, we're closed," she called, without turning around. She just picked a little more at the peeling varnish and mentally scolded herself as more flaked away.

"Well the door isn't locked," came the defiant reply.

She rolled her eyes, not feeling up to dealing with an overconfident customer, and wheeled around, "Can't you read?"

"Evidently not," Reno offered, smirking.

She stared at the redhead for a minute or two, before his questioning expression prompted her reply. "Oh it's you," she said softly, momentarily lost for words.

"Yeah it's me," he grinned as she glared, "Got anything from Wutai?"

"What?"

"You know, drink?" he pretended to sip exaggeratedly from his empty hand, "From Wutai." His grin broadened and he took a step forwards, "Unless you're certain that you're closed. I saw a flyer for a bar up the street…"

"No!" Tifa exclaimed, a little too quickly, "Of course, stay."

He nodded in approval and took a seat at the bar. She noted that although he chose one near to her, he was careful to leave a couple of seats empty between them.

"Nearly six," he stated, staring at the watch on his wrist, "You're closed early."

She nodded and tried to return his casual smile, "Like you say, there's a new bar open across the street."

"Something about Chocobos right? I heard it's a real dive."

"How do you know that?" she took up her position behind the bar, staring at him curiously, "It only opened today."

He shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant, "Rufus had a VIP meeting with the guy who owns it. Didn't seem too keen."

"That's good," Tifa replied, "I need my customers."

He hazarded a cocky grin before gesturing at the bar, "Here I am to the rescue then."

"Yes you are," she conceded, "Wutai? Wasn't it?"

He nodded as she dropped down onto her knees to search through the bottles under the counter. They were certainly acquired tastes, and were hardly ever ordered by her regulars. She supposed that accounted for the thick layer of dust that covered the bottles; something else that needed doing, she thought. She reached for a red bottle at the back of the shelf, and dragged it out of its hiding place before polishing it inconspicuously with a rag she had tucked into her skirt.

It was a fairly old bottle, brought back by Yuffie as a gift, tasted once and never drunk again. She stood up, glad of Reno's appreciative grin at the sight of the bottle, and reached for a glass.

"Bit bigger," Reno prompted, as her fingers fell on one of the small glasses she usually used for spirits. She followed his order, and instead reached down another glass, twice its size.

"It'll cost you more," she pointed out. He shrugged in reply.

"You're paying for this I presume?" Tifa's tone was sceptical as she poured a shot of the liquid. It was thick, and a bright crimson colour, and as it settled in the glass it developed a thin greyish film on top. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the acrid scent hit her.

"Yes," he replied, tossing a couple of crisp notes on the bar. Tifa stared at them, before scooping them up and depositing them in the till. She went to count out his change, but he shook his head, "Keep it, it'll pay for the rest."

"You're staying then?" Tifa asked as he knocked the drink back in one, shuddering as he swallowed, "Only I was going to close early."

He smirked at her disgusted face, and ran his tongue absently over his lips. The glass, though empty, was coated in a red residue. "Yeah, I think I'll stay." He noted the slightly annoyed look on her face, and fixed her with his best impression of a wounded puppy, "If it aint too much to ask."

She stared back at the man in front of her. His eyes twinkled in the warm light, giving them a colour that was almost reminiscent of Cloud's mako eyes. Combined with the lopsided smirk it gave him an innocent, wistful look that reminded her uncomfortably of Denzel.

If she didn't know he was a Turk- an impossibility given that he never seemed to dress in anything other than the trademark suit- she might have been persuaded. But she knew Reno, and she knew his reputation. It wasn't the reputation that the other women knew him by, but something far worse. She'd seen him standing there, mocking her with his charming smile as he'd detonated the bomb that destroyed her home. She'd seen him murder Don Corneo without a shred of remorse.

She'd heard other stories too, and she was inclined to believe them, "Sorry Reno, but I really am closing."

He sighed melodramatically, and threw his hands up in the air. Against her better judgement she laughed, and he fixed her with an arrogant, knowing smile. He slipped his hand into his pocket, smirking as she tensed up, and placed a thick wad of notes on the bar.

"Can't I change your mind?" he simpered, his eyes flicking between the money on the bar and her hungry expression.

"Sure," she grinned and picked up the gil before he could take it back, dropping it into the till. It didn't look as sad and empty anymore. Owning a bar in the slums had taught her to accept business, regardless of where it came from. Holding the moral high ground may have been noble, but it didn't pay the bills.

" I'll have another one of those then," he replied, gesturing at the bottle.

She poured him another glass, and handed it too him. This time he didn't drain it in one, but took a sip and savoured it before wincing and swallowing. Tifa shook her head in disbelief, "I don't know how you can drink that."

"Got a taste for it in Wutai," he replied, and sipped again, "When you travel like I do you get a liking for truly shit drink."

Tifa laughed, and he grinned back. She felt a little more comfortable with his presence now that the till was full, but she was still wary. She ran her fingers along the top shelf under the bar, and located her leather gloves. The material was cold and rough to the touch. She knew they weren't necessary, but they made her feel more secure.

"It's been a while," he observed, staring around the bar. He'd been there before, and little had changed since his last visit. It was still decked out in dark wood, although the walls were a warmer, toffee cream colour. The sign above the door was the same battered one that Barrett had managed to salvage from the debris in Sector Seven.

"A year," she replied. A year, and nothing seemed to have changed.

"To the good old days," he mused, raising his glass. She nodded in agreement. They certainly had been the good old days, when the spirit of camaraderie was still alive and they had an enemy worth fighting. But now that was all but gone. She still saw them all, but it had become something of a rare occurrence, limited to perhaps birthdays and Christmas should an excuse to visit not present itself in between.

Reno was staring at her strangely, and seemed to have followed her thoughts, "Still see any of 'em?"

Tifa shrugged and smiled sadly, "Occasionally," she sighed, "From what I hear the Turks are still going strong."

"Something like that," he agreed, "Still the four of us, but I like it that way."

"I haven't seen you around for a while," she mused. It seemed a strange thing to say to a Turk, but after the frantic battle with Bahamut they'd had just disappeared. The Turks had never been a group of people she'd associated herself with, but they had certainly become conspicuous in their absence. There had been rumours flying around that Shinra was losing touch, and it was only recently, when the familiar suited figures had been spotted on the streets of Edge, that people had accepted the Turks were still in charge. She was truly interested, having heard the majority of the rumours in circulation from her own customers.

"We've been busy," his answer was suspiciously vague, and he knew it. He sipped at his drink again, "Why?" he suddenly looked mischievous, "Worried?"

"A little," she replied, truthfully. Reno looked surprised. "I wanted to thank you, for helping us." She pulled a bottle from under the bar and began to dust it down idly, "I don't think we could have done it without you."

She smiled as Reno's pale cheeks flushed under the thin, red tattoos. She'd never seen a man look so awkward and embarrassed. He proved her assessment by gulping down the last of his drink, and swallowing the fiery liquid too quickly. He spluttered, and slammed the glass down on the table.

"It's an awful drink," she pointed out, her brown eyes twinkling, "Would you like another?"

"Maybe something else," he replied sheepishly, and pointed at the bottle she was holding, "What's that?"

She glanced at the bottle in her hand, still rubbing the dust off it. It was a dull, green colour, with a faded silver label. Memories slowly filtered into her mind. "I'm not sure, I won it at Gold Saucer," she handed it to him, "Rather you than me, I'm afraid."

Reno accepted the bottle, and turned it over lazily, staring at the description on the back. It was in the same spidery writing as the label on the front. "This looks like the sort of thing Elena would drink," he pulled the stopper out and sniffed it cautiously, "It smells like battery acid."

"Well, you're welcome to it," she offered, and watched with interest as he poured some into his glass. It fizzed as he poured it, giving the pale gold liquid a twinkling aura.

He picked up the glass and tilted it, watching the bubbles fighting to escape on the surface, "Seen as it's a special occasion." He took a mouthful, swallowed, and stuck his tongue out, "Damn, that's bad."

He held the glass out to her, and she took it slowly, keeping her eyes on him as she sipped. The liquid was tangy and sour, but personally she thought it wasn't that bad. It was a little dry though, and she licked her lips before speaking again, "It's not bad at all," she smiled as he grimaced, "What's the special occasion?"

"Got a promotion," he replied. She couldn't help but notice a forlorn look in his eyes.

"And you're out on your own?" she asked, handing the glass back to him. He left it on the bar, eyeing it doubtfully, "A promotion's a pretty big deal."

"Elena and Tseng are busy and Rude's working," he said shortly, drumming his fingers on the bar, "So it's just me and… you, at the moment." He cocked an eyebrow persuasively, and pushed the glass towards her, "Go on, I'm buying."

"No thanks," she replied, amused by his now hurt expression, "I don't drink while I'm working."

"You're not working, the bar's closed!" he protested vainly.

"If the bar's closed, I can't possibly serve you," she grinned as he glared at her with sulky eyes. She had him there, and he knew it.

"So where's Cloud?" he asked.

"He's not here," she stammered, thrown by the sudden question. She picked up the bottle as a distraction, "He had some things to deliver."

"Liar," Reno said slowly. He grinned, and his teeth glinted.

"That's what he does now," she replied defensively.

Reno decided to drop the subject, and Tifa tidied the bottle away behind the bar with a relieved smile on her lips. But she wasn't lying; Cloud was away on a delivery. She just didn't know where, or when he would be back.

A strange whirring sound broke the awkward silence that had formed between them, and Reno dug his hand in his pocket with an annoyed frown on his face. He eventually found the offending object, his vibrating PHS, and flipped the shiny black casing open, "Yeah?"

Tifa watched as his frown deepened, and he sighed exasperatedly before replying, "Sure, I'm on it."

He hung up, and she smiled in a bid to hide her curiosity, "Bad news?"

"Nah," he replied, and rubbed his fingers through his hair. Tifa smirked; instead of smoothing his hair down it was as though he was trying to keep it's scruffy appearance. "Guess I'll have to celebrate some other time."

Tifa nodded, noticing the glum look on his face and feeling sympathetic, "Well, you're welcome back. Bring your friends," she smiled wryly, "I need all the customers I can get."

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, grinning as he stood up, "I'll see you around."

She watched the scarlet ponytail dance across his back as he sauntered off, his fingers idly messing up his hair again, "Bye, Reno."

He didn't look back. She shook her head as he disappeared through the door, the catch grinding back into place as he closed it behind him. She then turned her attention to the till, and began to count out the money.

There was at least one hundred and fifty gil in the wad he'd given her, and the notes were crisp and new. She stared at it in shock.

It would be nice to have that kind of money to throw around.


	5. Breakfast, Rain and Grocery Shopping

When the Suit Comes Off

Chapter Four

She saw him again, a lot sooner than she'd anticipated.

Tifa sat in the small, crowded café, nibbling at a piece of toast whilst she perused the morning paper. Her long, black coat was folded neatly on the back of her chair and she tossed her hair irritably as the static made it cling to the damp material. A dripping umbrella lay on the floor at her feet; uncharacteristically for the time of year torrential rain was beating at the windows.

She liked the café despite it being small and cluttered, she liked eating slices of hot, brown toast from the chipped blue-rimmed plates, and she liked reading the paper. She supposed that last point had annoyed Cloud the most about her early morning routine- although the routine itself had eventually become the problem. He didn't think there was any point reading newspapers; the editors were too deeply entrenched in Rufus Shinra's pockets. Tifa begged to differ. As a woman often subjected to unfounded rumours and speculation she liked to get the whole story. Biased as the papers often were, she liked to feel in some way prepared.

She blew across the top of her mug- chipped, just like her plate- and took a small sip of her black coffee. It burnt her lip, and she licked the tingling flesh thoughtfully.

The café often got busy as the morning progressed, but it was unusual for it to be so full so early. There was a market in town for the day, selling wares from places many Edge residents had only dreamt of. Tifa, having had the chance to travel across the world in the past, couldn't get quite so excited about trinkets from Wutai and Nibelheim. Objects from the former often came to her from Yuffie, and the latter… Well, she hadn't quite come to terms with the concept of the Nibelheim she knew destroyed, rebuilt and populated by Shinra actors.

It was offensive to her father's memory.

There were two slices of toast left on her plate, and she picked the smallest one, leaving the other, thicker piece for last. She bit into it, enjoying the salty taste of the warm butter on her tongue.

The café door opened, and the cold, wet wind intruded on her thoughts. It was hastily slammed shut by a man she recognised, a lanky man in a scruffy black suit, with purposefully messed-up red hair, albeit today the rain suppressed it. She watched him from behind her newspaper, as he strutted up to the counter and placed his order, his thin lips forming a smirk as he spoke to the waitress. She blushed, and fiddled with her hair shyly, before handing him his receipt. Tifa was certain she saw the woman offer Reno free re-fills, and shook her head in disbelief.

He grinned once more at the waitress and took one of the few empty tables by the window. He sat down unceremoniously, and propped his muddy shoes up on the chair opposite. His EMR lay on the table near his hand, far enough away from his fingers to pose no threat to passers-by.

Tifa knew better; Reno was fast. She had no doubts that should it be required, the mag-rod would be in his hand before his would-be assailant had even considered attacking him.

She idly placed the remnants of the slice of toast in her mouth, and realised she'd eaten it without thinking. Sighing, she began on the last one, determined this time she wouldn't be distracted.

Halfway through eating it the waitress crossed the floor carrying the largest breakfast Tifa had ever seen. She heard her explain, in a rather sultry voice, that they'd made it especially for him. The red-haired man merely grinned mischievously as he pocketed a scrap of paper with her phone number on, and thanked her far too kindly for his breakfast.

Tifa tried not to laugh, instead choosing to drink her coffee. Some men really were too much…

Reno, unaware of the scrutiny he was under, began work on his breakfast. Tifa paused, toast hanging in the air on the way to her mouth, too fascinated to eat.

She'd never seen anyone eat so quickly. The fork was gripped in his hand like a shovel, and he was forking mouthful after mouthful of hot food into his mouth, barely pausing to chew. By the time Tifa remembered the now cold slice of toast in her hand, he'd made his way through a good quarter of it, only pausing to wash it down with his own mug of coffee.

She dropped the toast onto her plate, put off eating it by what she was watching. It horrified her in a way, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She continued to stare, and logic began to take over. He'd obviously come to the bar the night before straight from work, given that it was early and he was still in his suit, he hadn't ordered any food off her, and he'd been called back to work (she presumed, given his annoyed expression) soon after. He could have been in the office all night, she mused.

He certainly looked like a man that hadn't eaten a square meal in a while.

He seemed paler than he had the night before, which for a man already pale was quite an achievement. It made the red marks on his face stand out more, and highlighted the drawn out shadows around his eyes. He looked he hadn't slept well, and she realised that his hair, terminally messy as it was, actually looked worse than usual.

He jumped, and for a moment she thought he'd spotted her. But he hadn't, he was too busy fishing around in his pocket for his PHS, which was ringing again. He barked into it impatiently, but then dropped his voice as people around him began to take interest.

Tifa, from behind her newspaper, thought she saw him mouth something about breakfast, and it being too early, before he rubbed his eyes wearily and stood up. Casting aside the scrap of paper that the waitress had so affectionately given him, he grabbed his EMR off the table, and headed out of the door. His breakfast lay on the table, half-eaten and accompanied by an almost full mug of coffee.

Tifa suddenly felt sorry for him, as she watched him disappear down the street in the pouring rain. Being at the beck and call of a PHS would have driven her crazy.

She folded her paper and placed it on the table, wondering whether it was worth having another coffee and waiting for the rain to stop. She sighed. She had a lot to do today, and really couldn't take time out to sip coffee and watch the weather, no matter how warm it was indoors.

Standing up slowly, she pulled her damp coat on. Luckily her boots hadn't allowed any water in, but her legs- spattered with raindrops as she'd arrived at the café- now felt sticky and clammy. She sighed, and rubbed at them vainly with the hem of her coat, before making her way out into the rain.

She was glad of her umbrella, as the downpour worsened and the sky grew steadily greyer and greyer, and by the time she'd reached the town centre it was almost black. She glared at it sullenly. The last thing she needed was rain discouraging people from venturing outside. She'd been hoping the novelty of the Chocobo Nest would have worn off, but a storm was sure to keep even the most adamant drinkers away.

The familiar green and white sign of the grocery shop came into view, and she gladly ducked through the door. Shelves piled high with fruit and vegetables greeted her, gleaming under the bright lights overhead, oblivious to the murky weather outside. Standing in the warm, dry store made the dark skies outside seem even less appealing.

Tifa picked up a basket, and began to fill it with items off the shelves. She bought as much fresh food as she could each day, to try and anticipate the needs of the customers when the bar opened. Anything that wasn't eaten she would live off, careful to pay attention to how long food lay around in her fridge.

Finishing off her vegetable shopping with a bag of rosy, sweet smelling apples, she crossed over to the aisles of soup tins and laundry detergents. She needed more soap, a commodity easily found between the toothpaste and shampoo, and some more matches to light the stove in her kitchen. These however proved much harder to find, so she settled for a brightly coloured neon lighter, hoping that it would last long enough to justify the slightly higher price.

As she dropped the basket on the counter the man behind it, dressed in a green apron, beamed at her, "Morning Tifa."

"Hey," she replied softly, smiling, "What do you think of the weather?"

He began to pack her shopping into bags, totalling it up on the cash register, "Awful…absolutely awful," he frowned at her, worried, "You were closed early last night. Something wrong?"

"Oh!" she looked surprised, "No, nothing really. The bar was empty so I thought I'd take a rest."

The cashier nodded, "Me and Ellie were after a drink," he grinned at Tifa's appalled expression; "We ended up going to that new place down the road… What's it called?"

"The Chocobo Nest," Tifa replied glumly, fumbling in her pocket for her purse.

"That's it," he jabbed a button on the register, and it made a cheerful pinging sound, "That'll be nine gil please. It's an awful place, doesn't have any of the atmosphere of your bar at all. Me and Ellie only stayed for a little while, then we went home. Not a patch on Seventh Heaven, that's what she said."

Tifa smiled gratefully, and waited for him to finish talking before handing him a ten-gil note. It was one of the crisp new ones that Reno had left on the bar the night before. The cashier eyed it absently, and dropped it into the till, before handing her change over.

"Will you be open next Friday? Only Ellie is dying to pay you a visit."

Tifa nodded, "Of course. Say hello to her for me."

"I will. See-you Tifa," the cashier called as she wandered out of the store and back into the rain.

It seemed even darker outside, and as she stepped in a muddy black puddle she sighed crossly. Balancing her umbrella in one hand, and the loaded shopping bags in the other, she crossed the street.

There were people everywhere. Despite the rain, the pull of the marketplace was obviously too strong. Determined to avoid the crowds of slowly milling shoppers and pushy storeowners, she disappeared down a side street that took her away from the hustle and bustle, and into the darker, wetter dregs of the town.

It was a lot quieter here, amongst the wet bricks and concrete, and it gave her chance to think. The only sounds puncturing her thoughts were the cascading rain on the floor, and the faint roar of cars in the distance.

Another sound caught her attention, and she listened hard, but it had faded away under the rain. Perhaps she'd imagined it…

She carried on walking, travelling down alley after alley with little thought. She'd made the same journey so many times it had almost become a reflex. Right here, left there, past the clapped out truck and the red front door…

Then she heard it, the sound again, only louder and more frantic. Somebody was shouting.

Tifa froze, unsure of what to do. On one hand her basic instincts told her to run and help, but on the other the weight of her shopping and sodden umbrella screamed out for her not to play the hero. The latter was quickly outweighed, however, by the surging adrenaline that was itching to fight, that wanted her to drop everything and don her gloves.

She decided to compromise. Carefully placing her burden on the curb, and hoping the gutter water wouldn't seep through the bags, she reached into her pocket and pulled on her old, worn gloves. They fitted perfectly over her small hands, without rubbing as she clenched her fingers into fists. She didn't even have to force them over her damp fingers; they slid on as easily as a second skin.

The shouts were getting louder; signalling that whoever was in trouble was getting nearer. Then she heard erratic footsteps ringing out on the concrete. She closed her eyes and concentrated. It sounded like two people, maybe more and one set was moving a lot faster than the other.

She stood in the pouring rain, and waited. Her hair, no longer shielded by the umbrella, was sticking uncomfortably to her face and neck. The footsteps and shouting were getting louder still.

A man burst into the alley, face red and panting, and his dull clothes sodden from the rain. He was average height, though slightly weedy looking, and Tifa had never seen a man look so terrified in his life.

She held out a hand to stop him, "Wait! I can help you."

"Out of my way, bitch!" he shouted frantically, trying to push past her. The grocery bags on the floor upturned, sending her shopping rolling out into the gutter.

"Game's up," someone shouted from the end of the alley, "There's no use running."

The panicked look in the man's eyes deepened, and Tifa noticed how bloodshot they were, "Get behind me," she ordered, fists clenched, "I can help you."

He did as he was told, but she had no time to be relieved. A rough, wet hand wrenched painfully at her hair, and she was dragged backwards. Something silver glinted in the air, and felt something cold and hard pressed against her throat.

A man appeared, soaked to the skin, emerging from the darkness at the end of the alley. His red hair was slicked to his face. Behind him, panting slightly was a taller, broader, bald man. Despite the darkness and the rain a pair of dark sunglasses obscured his face.

Reno's cheeks were flushed from running, and his EMR was balanced lazily on his shoulder, "I'm only gonna warn you once," he grinned at Tifa, who was staring at him in surprise, "Get your damn hands off her."

"I'm not scared of you," the man shouted, although the tremor in his voice begged to differ. Tifa felt the knife against her throat slacken slightly as the man's hands began to shudder.

"It's not us you should be scared of," Rude replied calmly, eyeing Tifa's hands. They were still clenched into fists.

"Come near me and I'll kill her!" he screeched, as Reno took a step forwards.

"Come on," he smirked, "We all know that's not gonna happen."

The knife slacked a little more, and Tifa stared at the Turks in front of her. Rude, like her, was clenching his fists but Reno stood in front of him. His weapon was still slack on his shoulder. He winked at her cheerfully and she sighed, realising that he was leaving it up to her.

She thrust her elbow backwards, and found it connected with something soft. The man yelped, and the knife clattered to the ground. Without missing a beat she span around, kicked his legs out from underneath him, and slammed the heel of her hand into his nose. As leather connected with cartilage there was a sickening creak, and blood began to mingle with the rain and sweat on his face.

"Nicely done," Reno grinned in appreciation, and disabled the man with a fast, blinding jolt from his EMR. He crumpled to the floor, temporarily stunned. Reno nudged him with his scuffed shoe to make sure, and then stood back, satisfied.

"Thank you," she replied, pulling her gloves off and stashing them in her pocket. She turned around and surveyed the shopping that littered the dirty street. "No…" she murmured.

"Don't worry about it," Reno casually dipped his hand in his pocket and handed her twenty gil, "Rufus likes to reward where rewards are due."

Behind them Rude was hoisting the unconscious man onto his shoulder, barely even grunting under the strain. He nodded in welcome at Tifa, and she smiled back uncertainly. She stared at the money in her hand, and thrust it back at Reno. "The money last night is more than enough."

Rude raised an eyebrow, the only inclination of the curious expression behind his glasses, and Reno laughed nervously before imperceptibly shaking his head at her. Evidently his trip to Seventh Heaven hadn't been the subject of any conversation between the two men that morning. Tifa smirked, and mouthed an unenthusiastic apology at Reno.

"We'd take you home but Rude can't remember where we left the car," Reno explained, looking annoyed, "You'll get back quicker if you walk."

Tifa nodded, noting Rude's tight-lipped frown as Reno placed the blame on him. She stared from him to the man dangling from his shoulder "Who is he?"

"Nobody, as far as you're concerned," Reno replied. His smirk reminded her of the simpering expression he'd charmed the waitress with. It was as though he was trying to pull off a charismatic smile, but had found halfway through that the left side of his mouth wasn't working.

Tifa glared at him, and the smirk broadened in response. Rude, carrying the man like a rag-doll, punched Reno's arm roughly, "Come on, the boss's waiting."

Reno sighed, and turned around, offering Tifa a casual word of advice over his drenched shoulder, "Stay out of the alleys babe, you never know who you'll run into."

"Yeah," she murmured, as she watched him swagger off, leaving Rude to carry their captive single-handed, "You…"


	6. Dirty Work

When the Suit Comes Off

Author Note: This chapter is where the 'M' rating comes in. There's torture- not a lot, but it's there. The Turks have their reputation for a reason, after all.

Chapter Five

"She's impressive," Rude noted admiringly as they walked side-by-side up the corridor, "Tifa, I mean. She can handle herself…"

"Yeah, yeah," Reno replied absently, still picturing the look of shock on the man's face as Tifa's elbow connected with his groin, "But the way you keep on about it… You could start a fan club."

Rude glared at him from behind his sunglasses, and despite not being able to see his angry eyes Reno smirked back. He'd developed a penchant for deciphering Rude's facial expressions, and in the rare cases he couldn't his lopsided smirk was usually a good enough response. Rude strode ahead slightly, leaving Reno to jog in a bid to keep up with him, "I was just saying, she's good," he added defensively.

"Sure, Lockhart has something," Reno conceded, although it was without Rude's flattering tone. He'd been on the receiving end of those kicks and punches one to many times. "Now how about we do our job? Yeah?"

"She'd make a good Turk," Rude continued, ignoring Reno as he glared at the back of his head, "Nice to have someone that can fight."

"As opposed to?" Reno prompted, grabbing Rude's arm to slow him down. He did, marginally, and Reno jogged straight into him.

"Someone who thinks skill is equal to," he gestured hitting someone with a stick, "Point and zap."

"Shut it, brawn for brains," Reno replied sarcastically, although he couldn't keep the grin off his face when Rude began to chuckle. Friendly banter was something he and Rude had fully mastered. It wasn't the sort of petty, insult-throwing relationship he had with Elena. Eventually she'd storm of and tell Tseng what he'd said, and Reno would be in trouble for a week. He guessed that's why he and Rude were such good friends.

"What you gonna do," Rude was still laughing, "Poke me?"

"Point and zap," Reno repeated, sniggering, "Don't underestimate it my friend."

They carried on up the corridor, side-by-side once again, and Rude slipped his sunglasses off and polished them on his tie. Reno watched with a sceptical expression. Never in his life had he seen a man with such clean sunglasses. Reno's own goggles, rarely ever used in a practical sense, were smeared with greasy fingerprints. He ran his fingers through his hair, checking that they were still in place.

Elena often commented that she'd never worked with two vainer men in her life. Reno would protest, hand ruffling his hair absently as he spoke, and then realise what he was doing when she laughed triumphantly. Rude would just glare at her, polishing his sunglasses. That was when they'd descend into the sort of chaotic arguments that only Tseng could break apart, Reno and Rude repeatedly using the old 'at least we're not sleeping with the boss, now that's dedication' line, whilst Elena screeched louder and louder at them, calling them as many malicious, childish and downright pointless names that she could think of.

Needless to say Tseng never found the situation amusing. As Rude and Reno didn't have the 'cute blonde with a cleavage' factor, they never seemed to win.

Reno swiped his key-card in the lock, and it bleeped at him angrily before flashing red. Cursing, he rubbed it on his sleeve and tried again. Rude stared at the bent card in his partner's hand and pushed him away from the machine. He swiped his own, immaculate card and the panel flashed green. Reno stood in the background, rubbing his arm inconspicuously whilst Rude wasn't looking. The man didn't realise his own strength.

Rude held the door open, and Reno stepped through.

The room was small and, like the rest of the Shinra complex, a dull, metallic grey. There was a steel table in the centre, with three chairs laid out around it. Two of them, on the side of the table closest to them, were empty. A dishevelled, nervous looking man was chained to the other. His watery eyes registered them warily as Rude sat down, cracking his knuckles.

Reno decided to stand, nightstick balanced lazily on his shoulder.

"So," Reno grinned, and his eyes flashed. The harsh, neon lights above them gave the room a cold, hard edge. "Somebody in this room has really pissed President Shinra off." He paused, for effect, and sneered, "And it aint me or my partner here."

Rude sat in silence, and cracked his leather-bound knuckles again.

"I haven't done anything," the man blurted out, his eyes fixed on Rude's hands.

"That's just not true is it?" Reno paused again, noting the way the man opposite him refused to meet his gaze. It was a good indication that he was lying; "Where's the money? That's all we want to know," he smiled pleasantly, and the man seemed to relax. He failed to notice the malevolent sparkle in Reno's eyes.

"I bet it on a Chocobo," he explained, "I was sure it was gonna win."

"Yeah, funny things those Chocobos," Reno mused, "So you lost it all?"

The man nodded. Rude leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"That's a shame," Reno's mouth curved into an almost sympathetic smile, "I mean, Rufus was very generous, wasn't he?"

"Y-yes," the man stammered, "V-very generous."

"Do you know why he was so generous?" Reno asked. His tone was light and airy. "Do you know, Rude?"

Rude nodded stoically. They'd long ago perfected the interrogation game.

"So, do you know? I think you do," he turned to the man, who shook his head slowly, "Now," he raised an eyebrow, "You're gonna have to do better than that."

The man didn't reply. He hands, bound to the chair, began to shake.

"See, you told Rufus Shinra that you needed that money for your kids, didn't you?"

Rude shook his head sadly as the man's eyes widened.

"But you don't have any kids, do you?"

"I do!" the man protested vainly. His sallow cheeks were flushed, and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.

"When will you learn," Reno laughed, not giving him a chance to reply, "Now… I want to know who you gave that money to."

"I-I don't know!" his eyes were terrified, "He said he could give me good odds. He swore that I'd win!" his fingers began to squeeze the sides of the chair, making the skin look strangely translucent, "H-he didn't give me his name!"

"I'm sure he did," Reno replied calmly, "You're just not thinking hard enough."

Beside him Rude nodded.

"I swear, I don't know!" the man's frantic voice was now less than a whisper.

"And that's why President Shinra asked us to talk to you," Reno smiled warmly, and scratched his head, "Me and Rude here, we like to give a man some options. We understand where you're coming from, we really do."

The man in the chair eyed them warily, but Reno could see his amiable words were taking their toll. He swallowed hard, "W-what options."

"It's simply really," the warm smile vanished, "The easy way, or the hard way."

"B-but you said…"

"To put it more simply, myself, or my good friend here."

Reno could see the cogs working as the watery eyes darted between the two of them. He was fairly certain what the decision would be, which made him feel a little sad. He shrugged the feeling off. The man watched Rude, whose muscles were visibly straining through his jacket, and then stared at Reno. This was the common mistake, Reno thought, as the man looked at him. They always underestimated the lanky man with the charming smile.

"Y-You then," the man stuttered, eyes pleading with Reno.

He grinned in response, although the expression lacked its usual mirth, "That would be the hard way then."

He placed his nightstick on the table, and watched the bloodshot eyes in front of him widen apprehensively. Whilst the man stared at the EMR, Reno fished around in his pocket, and produced a slightly mangled cigarette.

"Smoke?" he offered. The man shook his head, "Too bad." He lit the cigarette, and took a lazy drag, before blowing the smoke up in the air. He watched the plume dissipate, ignoring Rude as he reached across the table and gripped the man's fingers. Rude jerked his hand around, exposing the soft, white underside of the man's wrist.

"Now, think carefully," Reno drawled, "Who'd you give the money to?"

"I-I don't know!" the man protested.

"Wrong answer," Reno shook his head sadly, and plucked the cigarette from his lips. A split-second later a stomach-churning, burning smell filled the air. The man screamed.

Reno pulled the cigarette away from the man's wrist and inspected the glistening burn; "Remember anything?"

"N-no! Please," he begged, staring in horror at his burnt flesh, "I swear, I don't know!"

Reno shrugged, "I beg to differ." The smell of burning skin assaulted the air once more.

Half an hour later they left the room.

Reno welcomed the smell of clean air, and gulped it down. He felt sick, not that he was going to admit it to Rude. He leaned against the wall and stared at his partner, noticing that his cheeks had a pale, ill look to them. Reno knew his face looked the same.

He tried to smile wryly, but only managed a grimace, "So he really didn't know."

Rude shook his head. They began to walk back the way they'd come.

"My office?" Reno suggested. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, finding it soaked with sweat, "Tseng'll find us when he needs to."

Rude nodded. Reno began to swing his EMR agitatedly. Sometimes he wished they'd pick the easy way. Rude walked slowly beside him, his eyes shielded by his sunglasses. Reno knew what he was thinking, "The medics will sort him out."

Rude shrugged in reply, "Maybe."

They turned a corner, and found themselves in yet another cold, grey corridor. Reno quickened his pace, and Rude followed suit.

"Nearly there," Reno assured him. It was pointless. Rude knew where Reno's office was.

He thrust the door open, knowing that in other circumstances Rude would have scolded him for not having locked it. Reno didn't see the point, personally. His key-card was erratic at the best of times, and the only people that would ever break in were the other Turks. Reno found that he didn't particularly care, aside from the slightly annoying prospect of returning from a hasty cigarette to find Elena waiting for him.

Rude leaned on the edge of Reno's desk, cluttered as it was with paperwork and idle doodles, and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were closed, and he rubbed them wearily. Reno watched his friend sympathetically, before sinking gratefully into his chair and propping his feet up on the desk. He wrenched a drawer open under his feet, and felt his way through the jumbled contents.

He sighed gladly as they connected with the cool, smooth surface of the hip flask, and he pulled it out of the drawer. He unscrewed the lid, and handed it silently to Rude. He didn't object, taking a sip from the bottle.

He passed it back to Reno, whose own lips sought out the neck eagerly. He took a long swig, and gasped as he swallowed. The burning feeling scorched down his throat and into his stomach, where it settled contentedly. He took another quick sip, and handed the flask back to Rude.

They were feeling better when the door eventually clicked open and Tseng strode inside. He took in the sight of Rude, perched on the edge of the desk, and Reno lounging in his chair with the silvery hip flask hanging lethargically from his fingers. Reno eyed him casually, leaving his feet on the desk. If Tseng was at all irritated he kept it well hidden.

"I trust your interrogation went well?" he asked, a passive expression on his face. Rude shrugged in response, and Tseng sighed, "Rufus won't be pleased."

"The bastard didn't know anything," Reno replied. His voice had a slight slur to it, "Didn't even ask who he was giving the money to. Idiot."

"And you interrogated him…fully?" Tseng chose his words carefully, gauging the reactions of the two men in front of him. Neither looked very comfortable.

"He picked the hard way," Reno laughed, but the sound was hollow, "Trust me, he's not holding out on us."

Tseng nodded slowly, "Right then. Reno, I'm still waiting for those reports. Rude, make sure he gets them finished."

Reno sighed, and dragged his boots off the table. They clunked as they hit the floor, "Sure thing."

Rude slipped his gloves off and folded them neatly, before placing them in his jacket pocket, "Do you need us tonight?"

Tseng took in their hopeful faces, and a glimmer of a smile twitched across his lips, "It's probably better if you don't stay. But we need you in early tomorrow."

"Sure," Reno replied nonchalantly. He had the hip flask to his ear, and was shaking it to gauge how full it was.

"I mean it, Reno," Tseng frowned, "Turn up late again and Rufus will rethink your promotion."

"I'll be there!" he exclaimed, glaring back. The hand clutching the flask fell dejectedly to his side.

Tseng nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave, "I'll apprise Rufus of the situation."

They watched him go. Reno laughed vacantly again, and idly scratched his chin, "So buddy, where to?"

Rude shrugged, "There's a new place near Sector Six."

Reno smirked, remembering Tifa's angry expression at the thought of her customers drinking elsewhere. "I think I can do better."


	7. A Month and a Half

When the Suit Comes Off

Author Note: This chapter had to be dragged **kicking and screaming** onto the computer, I kid you not. After spending all day writing and re-writing the original chapter six, which followed on perfectly from Reno and Rude's conversation, I decided to change my plans and bring it a little further into the future.

Chapter Six

Reno sat at the bar with a beer in his hand, tilting the bottle precariously and watching the amber liquid fizz around inside. One elbow propped his head up as his fingers twisted idly through his hair.

He was bored, he was alone, and he was waiting for her to pay attention to him.

Realising the chances of this were getting slimmer by the second he scowled, and began to spin the bottle around under his fingers. As it rocked from side-to-side, he wondered whether spilling beer across the bar would be enough to do it. He didn't think so. She was still smiling cheerfully at the old man at the end of the bar, who was leering far too much for Reno's liking. She seemed to have forgotten he was sitting there.

Six weeks ago Reno had spent an afternoon stabbing at somebody's wrist with a burnt cigarette, happy in the knowledge that yes, he was a nasty piece of work and he was sure his conscious would make him pay, but it didn't matter because he was a Turk, and that's what Turks did. He didn't know that an hour or so later, sharing a hip flask with his best friend, he would make the stupidest suggestion of his life. He sighed dramatically and squeezed his eyes shut.

Rude wasn't with him because he had to work late. He cursed the poor man under his breath, laying the blame entirely with him. If he hadn't had to sit and listen to Rude going on and on about how great she was he was certain he'd never have noticed.

Six weeks ago. It mortified him to think about it.

"_You sure about this place?" Rude asked sceptically, eyeing the familiar sign above the entrance._

_Reno laughed, "Positive." He paused with his hand on the door, eager to get in from the rain, "You'll like it."_

"_Is it cheap?" his hand fell on the pocket Reno knew he kept his wallet in. Reno knew that because he'd stolen the wallet when Elena had told him there were pictures of a woman Rude liked in it. She was lying, of course. Reno had sported a black eye for a week after Rude had found out._

"_I hope so," the redhead joked, "'Cause you're paying."_

_Ignoring Rude's scowl he pushed the door open and stepped inside, hit by the familiar scents of stale beer and cigarette smoke. The only eyes that turned to welcome him came from the smiling woman standing behind the bar. The warm lights made them sparkle, and she waved at him._

_Reno waved back. Rude shoved him out of the way impatiently and hurried to get inside, closing the door behind him. Tifa laughed, her eyes still sparkling, and gestured at two empty seats in front of her._

"You look happy."

Caught off guard Reno dropped the bottle, and Tifa yelped. His hand shot out and steadied it before it spilled. Cursing himself for not paying attention, he glanced up at the brunette to find her staring at him. She looked impressed. He grinned.

"That's better," she smiled, "Where's Rude?"

Reno shrugged, damning the lights for making her eyes sparkle, like he'd damned them a thousand times before. "Working."

"That's a shame. Tell him I said hello," she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "Unless he's coming in later?"

"Why are you so interested?" Reno blurted without thinking, and felt his cheeks burn. He sipped his drink as a diversion, careful not to meet her eye. She was mocking him with that damn smile again

"I need him here," she replied, laughing as Reno snorted in disgust, "My best customer just isn't himself without him."

Reno stopped listening to her, the words 'best customer' stuck in his mind. He grinned lopsidedly, knowing he looked like a complete idiot and failing to care.

"Or maybe I don't need him," she added thoughtfully. Her cheeks flushed to match his own, not that he noticed. He was still watching the lights as they reflected in her eyes. "What's wrong Reno? You seem sad."

"I'm smiling now aint I?" he replied casually. He sipped his beer again.

"Are you sure?" although her voice was soft he heard every last syllable, "You don't seem yourself."

He almost laughed out loud, but managed to hide it by swigging his beer again, "I'm fine Teef, don't you worry." I don't seem myself, he thought bitterly. Himself was the person he'd spent the last six weeks trying not to be.

She seemed satisfied, and leaned over the bar to whisper in his ear. He caught a glimmer of pale skin beneath her collar before her lips met his ear, "If I find out you're telling me lies I won't be happy." She pulled away, leaving him to revel in the faint, fruity smell of her hair.

He realised she was looking at him expectantly, and he smirked, "Would I lie to you?"

He was sure a puzzled look passed over her eyes before she finally registered his smirk, "Of course you wouldn't." She turned on her heel, distracted by a customer waving at the other end of the bar, "You wouldn't want to make me angry, would you?"

She was mirroring his lopsided grin, and he shook his head, "I could take you," he replied confidently, trying to push images of a hot, angry Tifa out of his mind.

Groaning he sipped at his beer again, "Damnit."

There was one thing he hated about her. She was far too forgiving. By rights she should have smacked him in the jaw the minute she laid eyes on him, just over a year ago, when she'd woken to find him smirking down at her with his EMR poised on his shoulder. She hadn't then, because he'd saved her.

She could have smacked him again when he sauntered into her closed bar and made demands that she serve him; but she didn't. Instead she thanked him for helping them defeat the silver-haired trio- who Reno was certain could have written the novel on the Oedipus complex- and had even gone as far as admitting that she'd worried when they'd disappeared for a while.

Not that they had disappeared. She wouldn't have welcomed him so readily if she'd actually known where he'd been. He suspected his work during those months had earned him his promotion. But she had forgiven him, judging by her warm smile.

He couldn't understand why, and that's what made him hate it so.

"You're sulking again!" she exclaimed, smacking his arm playfully. He looked up to find her smiling down at him, yet again. "I thought you said you were fine!"

"I am," he protested, "I swear."

"I don't believe you," she replied, frowning, "I spent enough time around Cloud to be able to tell when a guy is holding out on me." She yanked his half-empty beer out of his hand with a wry smile, "Now tell me or I won't serve you anymore."

"That's harsh Teef," he joked, although it was only his lips that were smirking. She'd spent the last six weeks skirting around the Cloud issue so hard that it surprised him to hear her say his name.

"Some men need a rough hand," she replied. He could have sworn she licked her lips.

"I definitely do," he smirked and tousled his hair, "Very rough."

"I'll have to give Rude a call then," she replied brightly, and laughed at his dented pride. His beer was still gripped in her fingers. "Tell me Reno, or I'll tip this away and throw you out."

"Tell me about Cloud and I'll think about it," he replied. She stared at the bar with a hurt expression. "Sorry Teef," he offered, reaching for his beer, "Guess that was kinda low."

"Even for you," she whispered. There was something horribly knowing about her statement, and he swallowed hard, unable to reply. She stared at the bar for a minute or two, his fingers still grasping the beer she was holding, before letting it go.

Drink in hand he grimaced, "I'll…" he gestured at the door, at the clock, at anything that wasn't her.

"Don't," she replied, her eyes still vacant. Then she snapped out of it, and smiled at him brightly, "If you go I'll have to close up on my own."

"Guess I'll have to stay then," he replied, and tried to twitch his lips into a smile. If he stayed she'd still have to close up on her own. He just sat on the bar watching her work, cracking jokes when she spoke to him and sneaking glances at her when she didn't.

She was thinking the same thing, he knew by the amused expression on her face. And then she'd disappeared again, tending to another customer that was leering at her and flashing his cash.

As Tifa turned to fix the man a drink, Reno glared at him menacingly. The man saw him and looked worried. When Tifa passed him his drink he handed her the money without meeting her eye, and practically ran away from the bar. Tifa looked mildly confused, and Reno sniggered into his beer.

Reno knew he wasn't in love with her. That was one of those idiotic concepts that Elena liked so much. He was…amazed, yes. Obsessed…quite possibly, but in love? No way. The thing that attracted him most to Tifa was the fact she was totally unattainable. She was a former eco-terrorist with a sword-wielding maniac for a 'boyfriend', a left-hook that could rip his head off and the best footing on the moral high ground he'd ever seen.

He didn't even have ground, high or otherwise, to base his morals on.

She was back again, smiling at him as she wittered on about something or other. He dragged himself away from his thoughts, and nodded absently. She was looking at him expectantly again.

"Black or white?" she prompted, at his confused expression.

"Underwear?" he looked hopeful.

She rolled her eyes, although she was laughing, "I knew you weren't listening."

"Beer's too good," he lied, "You're gonna have to compete for my attention I'm afraid."

"That's ok," she grinned, "You can pay for the next one." He scowled at her, and she flicked a strand of hair off his face, "Don't glare, you look ridiculous."

He fixed her with his tried and tested 'come-and-get-me-girls' smirk. He hoped that the lights behind the bar would lend his eyes some of her sparkle, and judging by her reaction he was in luck. Tifa bit her lip, her cheeks scarlet.

He jumped as something vibrated near his ribs, and was unable to keep the disappointment off his face. He dragged his PHS out of his pocket, almost knocking his beer over in the process, and drawled lazily into the receiver, "What?" he sighed, "No it isn't a good time." Tifa hazarded a nervous smile, as his expression went from bad to worse, "Can't you do it without me?"

He hung up and slammed the PHS on the table. Tifa eyed him curiously, "Work?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "They need me."

"I can see why," she said quietly, pushing her fringe out of her eyes.

Reno didn't register her words, distracted by her movement as her fingers toyed with her hair. He shrugged absently and flashed her a smile, "Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded.

When he looked back from the door she was serving another customer, smiling brightly as she handed him his drink. He shook his head, and stepped out into the cold.


End file.
